


Tabantha Whiteout

by DoctorQui



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Legend of Zelda, Fluff, M/M, Trans Character, angela tries her best with these idiots, gabe is a trans gerudoman who got kicked outta gerudo town for being a voe, grumpy gerudo gabe and his bird boyfriend, theyre both really dumb honestly how are they still alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 05:29:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10937970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorQui/pseuds/DoctorQui
Summary: It's a tough journey through the highlands and up to Rito Village. Many don't make it on their own--but Gabe is determined. He has someone waiting for him, after all.Another Overwatch Breath of the Wild AU! Don't need to read the first one to enjoy this though.





	Tabantha Whiteout

**Author's Note:**

> This was a 'request' from the ever lovely [Volka](http://cogfondler.tumblr.com/)! Hope you enjoy, and happy early birthday dear <3

Gabriel Reyes hated the cold.

 

Now, this wasn’t to say that he hated the Hedra mountains, or even the Gerudo Highlands; he found them quite beautiful, in fact. It was just the temperature that he couldn’t stand. Years of traveling through the desert wrapped in his familiar cloak and mask hadn’t done much to prepare him for the brisk, icy winds he found on the mountain peaks, nor for the thick, powdery snow that swallowed his feet with every step.

 

As if on cue, a harsh gale blew through him, ruffling his hood and sending a shiver down his spine.

 

Yeah, he definitely preferred the desert. Even with the moldugas. And the thunderstorms. And the shitty little hydromelon shells people left all over the Hylia-damned desert--

 

Before his thoughts could spiral into more complaints about his hometown, Gabe was stopped by a movement out of the corner of his eye. Years ago, when he had first left Gerudo Town (read: been exiled), he wouldn’t have recognized it. In fact, not noticing the creatures among the Hebra mountains was how he got many of the bigger scars and bruises that dotted his body. He’d die before admitting it, but it was actually Jesse who had taught him to see the signs, to recognize life where it was intended to blend in on the powdery cliffs.

 

And lynels, as he had quickly learned, were experts at blending in. One would think that a giant centaur beast would be pretty visible, but evolution had this funny way of giving unfair advantages to the already immensely strong. Gabe prided himself on his swordsmanship, but still preferred to steer clear of the creatures all together.

 

Hence why he dodged to the left, taking a wide berth around the circular lair in which the beast snored away. It was a silver lynel, at least twice Gabe’s size and coated in shimmering fur only barely distinguishable from the snow.

 

Gabe grunted and shuffled away. He wasn’t jealous of a mindless beast. He wouldn’t be. No matter how warm it must’ve been with that great fluffy coat, or how many rare weapons it hoarded around its neck.

 

Gabriel Reyes was a proud Gerudo warrior with no equal.

 

Albeit a very cold and grumpy Gerudo warrior.

 

Lost in his very valid and not at all boastful thoughts, he almost didn’t hear the crunch of snow behind him, or the snap of the tree branch overhead. Years of intensive reflex training kicked in quickly and he rolled out of the way. On the way up, he came face to face with the lynel.

 

Well, not quite. A quick glance revealed this was not the same one he’d just seen slumbering away in its lair: this one instead had a blue-mane. Judging by its position, body mass, and the pissed off look on its face, he’d wager it was the silver lynel’s mate.

 

Great. Just his luck.

 

He took the precious few moments before the beast charged him to sum up the situation. Hiding wasn’t an option; he was wearing all black in a snowstorm. He couldn’t outrun the beast without a stamina potion (unlike young Jesse, catching lizards and bugs was not a favored pastime of his). That left two options: stay and fight (dangerous, unreasonable, waste of time better spent getting where he needed to go) or jump off the cliff at his back (also dangerous and unreasonable, but most definitely quicker).

 

Before he could concretely decide, the lynel charged, horns aimed directly for his stomach.

 

Guess he had to chance it.

\---

The worst part about the drop hadn’t been the landing, no. Though Gabe felt like he’d been packed on ice like the fish they sold in Lurelin, he’d gotten lucky and hit a relatively soft patch of powder to cushion his unceremonious flop to the ground. The worst part of it by far had been the fall--or rather, the air piercing through every layer of clothing he had until he was sure the wind was _actually stabbing him._

 

Despite Gabe’s dramatic complaining (that’s what Sombra and Amélie would have called it, at least), he _did_ manage to escape from the lynel relatively unscathed. A victory he’d begrudgingly accept, given the circumstances.

 

In fact, he mused, looking out over the rocky pass in front of him, the sudden chase might have actually done some good. He recognized the trail now and realized he was only a short distance from Rito Village.

 

Rito Village, which he had gone through all this trouble to get to in the first place.

 

Rito Village, where there was food and warmth.

 

Rito Village, where someone was waiting for him.

 

Spurred on by the promise of a soft bed and softer wings, Gabe hurried forward, resolutely ignoring the chill that continued to seep down to his bones. He encountered no more lynels on the path to the village (thank Hylia) and relatively few obstacles, the road relatively smooth and packed-in from all the travelers who frequented the Highlands.

 

Finally, after what seemed like _years_ of journeying, running, freezing, Gabriel came upon the gate to Rito Village. The old wood was a shining beacon, already mitigating the chill still stirring in Gabe’s body. As he thought about why he was here, another kind of warmth spread through him, and he climbed the rickety stairs with a wide grin hidden behind his mask.

 

Unfortunately, his good mood was not to last long. It seemed Mother Nature had some sort of grudge against him on this particular journey: when he finally got to his destination, the highest balcony of the village, the most meticulously kept quarters of all the Rito, he found it empty. No fire beneath the cooking pot, no familiar tune whistled softly through a sharp beak, no pitter patter of talons clicking on the wooden panels beneath.

 

Gabe sighed. Of course, he wouldn’t be here. Honestly, he didn’t have the energy to be disappointed. The journey had been long and tiring, far moreso than he had predicted. Rather than pick around for clues as to where his little songbird could be, Gabe treaded over to the cot hanging to the right and collapsed into it. He barely had the energy to unclasp his mask and let it drop to his chest before passing out, gently rocked to sleep by the hatchlings’ morning practice and the easy breeze that drifted through the village.

\---

It wasn’t the crackling of the fireplace that woke Gabe up, nor the soft grumbles accompanying it _._ Instead it was the smell, the unmistakable aroma of his favorite hot pepper-voltfruit soup boiling just to his right. Gabe was out of the cot before he knew it and kneeling in front of the pot, steam rising up to his now slightly watery eyes.

 

“Ah, you’re finally awake.” Jack paused in stirring the soup and grinned cheekily (well, as best a Rito could grin). “Thought you’d never get up.”

 

Gabe smiled back and leaned over, burying his face in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck. The baby blue feathers were as soft as he remembered.

 

“ _Sav’aaq._ ‘Course I’d wake up. Didn’t come all this way to sleep all day, yeah?”

 

Jack grunted and resumed cooking. “Didn’t stop you from passing out in my cot. I’ll never understand you, Gabriel--especially not your taste in food. How can you handle this monstrous spice? Worse than the Gorons, I tell you.”  

 

“Likewise, Jackie. How can you _not_ love the stuff? Your little birdbrain just can’t handle flavor, I suppose. Don’t have much of it up in the mountains here.” Gabe laughed, the sound rustling among the feathers he was pressed against. “Why don’t you ever come to the desert? I’d love to have you down there.”

 

He received a chuff in response. “Too hot.”

 

“Well up here’s too cold,” he countered.

 

“And yet here you are, ruining my new spring coat nonetheless.”

 

“Now that’s just unfair, Jackie. You know how warm you are.” Gabe sighed and reluctantly parted with the soft down he was so very fond of. Jack stared back at him with an amused twinkle in his eye but said nothing, silently reaching forward and spooning a good chunk of soup into a wooden bowl and offering it forward.

 

Gabe took it gratefully, admiring the gradual changing hue of blue along the tips of Jack’s feathers. He remembered back when they were both younger, when Jack’s adult coat had yet to fully come in. He had no darker feathers then, only white and blue fuzz sticking out every whichaway. He smiled into the bowl at the memory, appreciating the feeling that spread through his chest. Though it could’ve just been the soup, he liked to think Jack played a part in how warm he felt against the cold air outside.

 

They sat like that for a while, the sounds of the hearth crackling and the wind whistling through the village filling the gaps in their silence. When Gabe had his fill of soup (which was, unsurprisingly, about five or six full bowls), Jack set everything away to be washed later and doused the fire slightly, just so that he didn’t have to worry about overheating the pot. Gabe watched him go about the routine, half tempted to fall back asleep while he wasn’t looking, but decided on a better idea as his boyfriend leaned over a wooden trunk.

 

“Jackie,” he called out, “come over here. I’ll preen your feathers for you. Think of it as me making up for mussing them before.”

 

Jack swung around with an incredulous look, but didn’t voice any opposition to the idea. Instead, he wandered in front of where Gabe was sitting and settled down facing away from him.

 

“All right, I’ll trust you, I suppose.” He stretched his wings out to the side, cerulean feathers glimmering in the sun like sapphires. “Just don’t go over-plucking me. I may be getting older but I can still feel it.”

 

Gabe just chuckled, reaching forward and running a palm down his spine. “Sure, sure. Whatever you want, _vure.”_ He felt Jack shiver beneath him, though whether it was from the touch or the pet name he wasn’t sure.

 

As he got to work, Gabe realized just how much Jack actually needed this; his feathers were a _mess._ Having long since outgrown the frizz of his youth, Jack’s back was now filled with tangled knots of feathers. Some pointed the wrong way, some were bent crooked, others were already molted and just stuck in large clumps.

 

He set to work untangling the largest bits, humming softly as he did so. Jack’s tension gradually melted away as he worked, which made the whole process even easier. It was calming, really. Just the two of them, kept warm by the quickly growing pile of old feathers Gabe cleared from his boyfriend.

 

Something was off, however. It took him awhile to figure it out, but eventually Gabe realized: more than half of Jack’s undercoat had gone grey. He frowned and combed through the feathers with more care, paying further attention to the coloring. He was no expert on the Rito, but even he could tell a healthy man of Jack’s age shouldn’t be graying like this.

 

“Hey, Jack,” Gabe murmured, soft enough not to startle but loud enough to catch his attention. Jack responded with a grunt, which Gabe took as a sign he was somewhat listening. “Are you feeling alright?”

 

Jack tilted his head and hummed a low questioning note. “Yes, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

 

“Well…” Gabe paused. He had to word this _just_ right. He knew how picky Jack could get, especially about his health. “You just seem generally kinda stressed, y’know?”

 

By the way Jack stiffened, he knew he’d hit the mark.

 

Gabe stopped his ministrations and placed a palm on Jack’s back in an attempt to be soothing. “ _Vure,_ you need to tell me what’s up. I can’t help unless I know.”

 

“I know, I know,” Jack sighed, bending forward slightly under the pressure. “It’s nothing though. Really, it isn’t. I’ve just been kinda busy lately dealing with the village. So much has happened since Jesse visited and liberated the Divine Beast, and as the leader it’s hard to hold it all together. I get help, of course--Tracer’s especially wonderful when we need to deliver a message somewhere--but it’s just...a lot. I’ll be fine though, I promise. Feathers crossed and all.” He snuck a look back over his shoulder at Gabe, and if beaks could form a smirk, Jack’s definitely was.

 

There was no proper response to that other than to lean forward and plant a smooch right on the tip of his beak with a grin.

 

“Alright Jackie. I’ll trust you.”

 

“Good. Now get back to grooming, I _do_ have a village to run.”

\---

Much as Gabe protested, there really was nothing quite like the freshness of the mountain air. The platform that rested next to Akh Va’quot Shrine made for a perfect view of the surrounding scenery while also remaining strategically positioned in the warm afternoon sunlight. It was easily his second favorite spot in the whole village (the first being Jack’s cot).

 

He heard the sound of talons approaching before the familiar tune of a whistle and had his mask on in an instant. When he turned to look, it was only Angela, light catching on her vibrant yellow feathers.

 

“Hello Gabriel,” she greeted with a polite wave of her wing. “Here to visit?”

 

“Yeah,” he grumbled. “Got in yesterday.”

 

“Do you mind if I join you?”

 

In lieu of a reply he shifted to the right, his dangling legs swinging with the movement. It was a steep drop to the bottom of the canyon, he knew that, but he wasn’t scared of falling. Worst case scenario he could use his shawl as a glider, like Jesse was so inclined to do.

 

He was interrupted from his thoughts of not-so-certain death by Angela clearing her throat slightly. Ever so nice, so formal. It used to get on his nerves, but at this point Gabe could tell it was just a front she put on, natural after so many years of serving as the Rito’s most talented medic.

 

“What is it that you want?” He looked over, eyebrows raised behind the mask.

 

Angela snorted and waved the tip of her wing. “Oh, come on. Mr. Dark and Broody sits on a platform and thinks _I_ want something from _him?_ You wear a skull mask, Gabriel, I know you’re not going to seek out others for help. So, what is it?”

 

Gabe frowned. Loathe as he was to admit it, she had him figured out. Plus, she could probably actually help in this situation…

 

“Fine, whatever.” He scrunched up his face, swallowing his pride like a child forcing down their portion of hearty durian. Hylia above, this was _embarrassing._ “It’s about Jack. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you, but he’s, well...stressed out. It’s nothing new, but I want to do something nice for him, you know? Just to make him feel a little better.”

 

“Hmm…” Angela nodded, turning back towards the mountains as she thought. After a moment her eyes lit up, and she turned to Gabe with a glint in her eyes. “Wildberries! That’s your answer.” She grinned. “Jack’s favorite dish is roast Hylian bass with wildberry cream sauce drizzled on top. The gerudo always say there’s no better way to show love than a home-cooked meal, right?”

 

Gabe could feel his ears burning. “W-Well yeah, that’s what they teach us. The way to a _voe’s_ heart is through his stomach and all that…”

 

“Then what are you waiting for?” She stood, brushing her wings across Gabe’s face. “Go, go! Hurry up, the sun won’t be out all day now.”

 

He complied with a grunt, sending his best glare towards her before realizing she couldn’t see it behind the mask. Rather than risk distressing himself further (or worse, incurring Angela’s wrath), he set off down the old wooden steps of the village. He was a man on a mission now, after all, and let it never be said that Gabriel Reyes didn’t give his all.

\---

Despite, as he put it, giving his all, Gabe soon found that the task he had set out to do was damn near _impossible._

 

Oh, the wildberries were easy enough to find. They grew all over the mountains, sprouts of green and purple sticking up from the snow like carcasses in the desert. Gabe gathered a fair amount and stuffed them in one of his packs before moving on towards the higher parts of the mountains where the fish would be.

 

And therein lay the problem.

 

Gabe was a smart man. He’d traveled most of western Hyrule, fought countless monsters, even helped the legendary hero himself take down many of the desert’s denizens.

 

Apparently, however, he never learned how to fish.

 

There wasn’t exactly an abundance of water in the desert, so he’d never had to contend with the creatures before. Never seen a Zora either, so he couldn’t tell you what their scales would feel like. Though initially he thought it might be something like the salamanders or seals that wandered the sand, in reality nothing could have prepared him for the slippery little beasts.

 

Catching them by hand was quickly out of the question; they just wouldn’t stay. So he then moved on to using tree branches, sticks, anything he could think of. Even his scimitars couldn’t get the damn job done.

 

It was frustrating, to say the least.

 

He heaved a sigh and sat back, splaying his legs around the pond. The temperature was quickly dropping, and the sun would go down soon. The smart part of his mind begged him to go find shelter, but the stubborn side refused. He had a job to do, and he’d see it through.

 

With renewed determination he rocked forward, but quickly stopped himself upon hearing a loud squelching noise from his side. He looked over, cautiously peeling back the layers of cloth until the source was revealed.

 

And of course, of _course_ it was the wildberries. Of course he had accidentally crushed them, turning all his hard work into a gross fuschia mush.

 

It was almost laughable when it began to snow.

 

Less so when it kept going, growing heavier by the minute.

 

Soon everything was swarmed with white and a harsh wind seeped directly through his cloak. He could barely see his hand in front of his face, let alone where he was going, but he trudged on. The layer of Jack’s feathers he’d shoved into his coat helped to keep him warm, but it wasn’t enough. Blizzards were fairly common up here, but that didn’t make them any less dangerous. He’d be dead in ten minutes if he didn’t find a place to make camp.

 

He kept going, one foot after the other, focused on the path in front of him (or what little he could see of it). No time to be worried about lynels, they wouldn’t be out in this weather anyway. No time to consider the mess of wildberries in his pocket, they’d be frozen solid anyway. No time to think about Jack, who he didn’t even say goodbye to. No time, no time, no time.

 

However, it seemed Hylia had plans for him yet. Just as Gabe felt the last of his strength draining, his feet turning to iron, he saw it. An edge through the snow, a shape just so out of place even he noticed.

 

The Flight Range.

 

A miracle.

 

By the time he had a fire going and his hands thawed, Gabriel had passed through any sort of panic that should have struck him. There was a strange sort of peace to being isolated in a storm like this, watching the flakes twist and turn like skullropes in the wind.

 

When he felt he could move again, Gabe glanced around the range. It was the same as always, half disused yet somehow well kept. One thing was new, however, and it quickly caught his eye--a wooden chest in the corner across from him, golden adornments gleaming by the light of the fire.

 

He shuffled over quickly, eager to see what was inside. Though he was no longer a thief, the prospect of lost treasure was always exciting. He cracked the top open slowly, lifting the old wood ever so slightly until--

 

“Oh.”

 

A grin spread across his face.

 

That’d do _nicely._

\---

Gabe wanted to kiss the ground when he saw Rito Village again. As he stepped in, moon shining, wind howling, trees bending, it was the most beautiful place he could think of.

 

And he didn’t take more than two steps into it before he was barreled into by a mass of blue, knocking the wonder from his mind and the breath out of his lungs. Soft wings wrapped around him like a vice, squeezing until he was sure his eyes would pop out from beneath the mask. Before they could, however, he was released, and found himself beak-to-mask with a very exasperated Jack.

 

“Where the hell were you?!” he huffed, leaning back and crossing his wings. “I flew and looked everywhere, all day long. When I asked Angie she said you ‘went out,’ but what the _hell_ does that mean? You’re not native to this area, you don’t have feathers, you don’t have fur, you have no protection in case something goes wrong. The mountains were whited out for Hylia’s sake you could’ve been--”

 

“ _Sav’saaba_ to you too, Jackie,” Gabe wheezed, giving his best charming smile. “I’ll explain everything, I promise. Let’s go up to your place first though, yeah?”

 

Jack narrowed his eyes and glared down at his boyfriend. Intimidating as he was attempting to be, Gabe couldn’t help but admire him like this: the way moonlight shimmered against his lighter feathers, how the shadows of night turned his eyes to flint.

 

He was beautiful.

 

He was his.

 

Eventually Jack relented and gracefully rolled off of Gabe. He led the way up to his nest in silence, still obviously angry but at least willing to hear his boyfriend out. It was once they arrived that Gabe removed his mask and pulled the cloth-covered object from his back, holding it out and silently prompting Jack to take it.

 

With an eyebrow raised, Jack complied, carefully unfolding it layer by layer. He gasped as the final sheet fell away.

 

It was a re-enforced falcon bow, one of the older models that he knew Jack preferred. The sky blue riser was chipped and worn, but the smooth wood at the end of the limbs belied how well intact the bow still was. Jack ran the tips of his feathers over it, reverent, eyes wide with disbelief.

 

“Where…?”

 

“Over at the Flight Range. It was lazing about, you know, and since I couldn’t catch the meal I set out to I thought this’d do just fine,” Gabe supplied, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry it took me so long.”

 

Jack looked up at Gabe once more. His eyebrows furrowed, and his face grew serious. “You’re a dumbass. A real piece of work. I thought you were gonna die, Gabe, you can’t just--” He cut himself off with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his beak with a wingtip. When he spoke again, his words were softer, more forgiving. “I appreciate the gesture. It’s sweet of you. But next time just...be careful.”

 

Gabe grinned and reached forward to wrap Jack in a hug. “Sure thing, _vure._ Sure thing.”

 

They settled in quickly after that, huddled in front of the fire pit. Jack had the wonderful idea to cook the mess of berries Gabe had found into jam for them to enjoy the next morning. As the food simmered, Gabe relaxed and felt his eyes grow steadily heavier.

 

Just as he was about to pass out, however, a rustling above his head roused him. He blinked awake only to find Jack leaning over him, feathers deeply threaded through the auburn curls under his shawl.

 

“Jack...” Gabe grumbled, swatting lazily at his wings. This accomplished nothing save amusing Jack, who grinned down at him cheekily.

 

“I couldn’t help it. Your hair is so _cute,_ I don’t know why you always cover it. Plus, you preened my feathers earlier. Only fair I return the favor, right?”

 

Gabe muttered something else under his breath, but it was lost to the wind as his eyes drifted shut once more and he leaned into Jack’s shoulder.

 

When he woke the next day, he’d find the jam congealed in the pot and Jack’s wings wrapped securely around him, both of them laid out peacefully in a nest of blankets.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This was so very fun to write, even though I had the Rito Village theme on loop for about two weeks straight and probably drove my roommate insane.
> 
> Also for those curious, Jack is based off of a mountain bluebird, Angie is a yellow warbler, and Tracer is a flame-colored tanager (though for her it'd be flame-coloured, I suppose...?).
> 
> A huge huge huge thank you as ever to my lovely beta [Mango](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MalevolentMango), who beta'd this for me despite being bone tired after 15 consecutive games of HoTS. You're amazing and I'm still not sure what I did to gain such a wonderful friend. 
> 
> Another big thanks to the Shipwatch discord for keeping me sane, in general. Y'all are sweethearts.
> 
> As previously mentioned, this fic was a 'request.' If you'd like to send a 'request' my way, click [here](schrodingerslion.tumblr.com/commissions)!
> 
> Have a good one!


End file.
